


Day 100

by gbMS



Series: Days [6]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Pete's World
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-21
Updated: 2017-10-18
Packaged: 2018-12-31 14:46:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 11,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12134733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gbMS/pseuds/gbMS
Summary: The Doctor's 100th Day on the Slow Path in Pete's World





	1. Carpets

The doorbell rung when it was still dark, pulling him from his dreams and into an angry wakefulness. Almost immediately he heard shuffling and decompression of the mattress as half of the bed vacated, more shuffling as Rose likely got a dressing gown or clothing on to quietly get the door, staying silent as if she could have seen this unusual early wake up coming.

His many forays into her mind hadn’t gone unnoticed by their biologies; Mornings were even harder now that they had forged a even small connection while touching. Waking and leaving the other was an even less of an enjoyable option after that, and here she was, waking up and leaving bed early. Without him. On _purpose_.

That in itself was funny, AM wasn’t a good time for Miss Rose Tyler unless her favorite shop started delivering tea. He could hear more shuffling but his eyes seemingly refused to open, or maybe they simply couldn’t as his eyelids were obscenely heavy at the moment. The door closed and he rolled onto his back, the change of position forcing him to open his dry, tired eyes and try to reconcile the many concepts that had seemed to have been thrown at him this early.

Early, Bell, Rose, Early.

Nope. Already did that last one.

Okay. That was it. Not many concepts, then. It must have been early for such a small equation to throw him so completely. Or, more likely, the chances of Rose getting up –he turned the alarm clock to be sure his internal reading of six past five in the bloody morning was in fact correct— the chances of Rose getting up _this_ early was so unlikely it was bordering on impossible and throwing off any other computations in his head.

He heard the front door open and close, he heard vague noises that sounded like words being traded that he was still too fogged down by this incessant need for sleep to actually listen to or retain. He heard her laugh, her morning laugh, the one that barely registered as her awake or even could be a might-not-actually-be-funny-but-its-polite laugh. There were few more noises, maybe, but their far away and indefinable sources made them less intriguing than the oncoming doze. Then a click and small breeze of their bedroom door being opened and closed after the familiar scent of strawberry and time closed in nearer to him pulled him from his near sleep.

The soft shuffling of clothes, hopefully being discarded, happened before the mattress recompressed and a warm sadly clothed body pushed back against his in what had become her normal, fairly snuggly position.

He still didn't open his eyes, the familiar warmth combined with his ridiculous amount of tiredness lulling him back to slumber as he rewrapped his arm around into the reinstated cuddle.

“What was that?” the Doctors voice came gruffly. He wasn’t expecting to ask it because he was so tired, but he couldn’t very well not ask.

“Builders.” Rose answered on a sigh, obviously intent on returning to sleep herself. “They’re doing something for me.” She said quietly and yawned, digging her head gently into the meat of his shoulder to get more comfortable. One of his eyes opened a bit to look down at her with a skeptical look, the slight movement pulling her pillow-shoulder a bit tighter and making her grumble and inevitably pout a bit with the position change.

“Are you saying me and my remarkable brain and fantastic new screwdriver are inadequate for the task?” the Doctor argued, opening the other eye and wrapping one of his arms around her.

“This early? Yes they are. Don’t think I haven’t noticed you’re as useless as me in the morning now.” She smiled with her eyes closed, “Plus it’s a thing. Needs doing.” Rose sighed quietly, her closed eyes flinching slightly as a few loud noises emanated from down stairs. The assorted noises pulled the Doctor's attention even more from his tiredness.

“Okay, Miss Mystery, what’s the thing?” his voice sounded more awake, prompting Rose to grumble more and bury her face in his arm.

She mumbled something indecipherable, vibrating his arm with voice and air and then he heard a barely audible “ _carpets_.”

“What about the carpets?” he paused, “Are we getting new ones?” the Doctor mused, smile creeping into his curious voice. Rose opened her eyes with irritation and a small growl as mild amusement seeped through his touch. She sat up and pulled at the blanket, her intention of returning to sleep obviously disappearing. She untethered their blanket from it’s former position on him, freeing the comfortable warmth that had accumulated and sending a slight shock of the temperature change.

“They’re removing them.” Rose shook out the blanket, unexpectedly putting it back over the two of them as it floated down through the air. She rolled over him as the blanket fell.

“They’re removing them?” He asked as he appraised his view. She hovered closer to his face, her torso over his as she laid directly on him, propping herself on her elbows under his arms.

“Yes, removing them!” Rose said, exasperated and grumbly. Her eyes lightened as she started her slightly scornful, teasing glower. He knew it was too early and she was too groggy to control it even if she could. “Oh, let's take the fun and mystery out of everything…” Rose lowered her voice and began mocking him in what he hoped was a poor impersonation, “ _‘I’m the Doctor. I'm from the planet Gallifrey in the constellation of Kasterborous. I am the Oncoming Storm, the Bringer of Darkness_ and I can’t _not_ know something or the universe implodes!’” she returned to her normal voice as he let out a huff of laughter, “Having someone remove your carpet is what people do when they _don’t_ want carpet.”

“And why do we not want carpet?” the Doctor asked, his smug smile betraying the fact that he had possibly realized the answer before asking, wrapping both arms around her.

“No reason,” she lied. He narrowed his eyes at her, amused by her vexation. Rose narrowed her eyes right back at him. “Oh, you know why.” The Doctor grinned wildly, she rolled her eyes playfully as a response.

“Might this have something to do with a certain lack of mortgage?”

“Well, you promised Mum you’d always bring me home. So I’m making it be home.” The Doctor beamed, letting out a cheesily pleased noise. “Shut up.” She teasingly instructed. “I’m still not doing anything about the doors, alright?!”

“Alright,” he said smiling. He tightened his arms quickly around her before twisting and throwing her back on the bed. He kissed her softly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I blame a thing I saw on the internet.
> 
> 1/4th ready for Halloween.


	2. Lizzy

It wasn’t the first time he’d woken up this morning, but certainly his first time actually getting up as there was no warm body beside him to distract him as thoroughly as he had been two hours ago.

He sat up and quickly retrieved his pants from the floor, quickly brushed his teeth and took a well-earned shower.

'It's a celebration,' Rose had said. ‘one hundred days.’ He hadn't thought of it needing celebration, but he hadn't ever counted on living linearly, or with the woman he loved, or in fact loving a woman so much to be willing to actually live linearly, or even liking the fact that she had kept count of his days with her. Granted, he’d done the same, counting the days like a miser afraid someone could take them away from him or like she'd somehow not listen to one of their—now sweet—warnings of not wandering off and ending the count. It was almost gratifying that she seemed to feel the same, either hoarding those same days or at least counting them enough to be glad when they met a three digit number, not their first three digit number and hopefully not their last. He knew humans tended to celebrate many anniversaries, celebrating the passage of time, which seemed more necessary now for some reason.

“ _Doctor_!” came her voice and a crack of the bathroom door, “you've breakfast and work, if you take much longer you'll miss one or both.” Her voice was a bit louder as she finished her thought, her light and airy voice ringing well through the falling water.

“Just a tic,” he called back as he heard the door close again. The Doctor smiled to himself as he turned off the shower.

The noises from down stairs had moved to a spare room, carpet removal and clean up moving absurdly quickly where the last name Tyler was involved. There was no replacement flooring yet, so much as unfinished baseboards, the mismatching wood and unsanded floors filling him with a bit of glee at solely the intent if not the execution.

“Wouldn’t be trending on late if I hadn’t been woken up so bloody early,” the Doctor said with a smile on his face as he walked quickly but carefully down the freshly de-carpeted stairs.

“Are you complaining about this morning?” Rose watched him descend from the hall below, crossing her arms. “Because I can easily get new carpets an' find a new method of distractin’ ya.” Rose raised her eyebrow.  
“Well,” he opened his mouth about to protest as he made it to the base of the stairs. She immediately greeted him with a kiss, removing any thought of retort or even urgency from his impending breakfast-and-work lateness.

“Kay, no time, was hoping you’d take a faster shower. Put on your shoes, I left your breakfast an' present outside.” Rose said quickly as she pulled the Doctor toward the door where his shoes were. She bounced her already shoe-clad feet in anticipation. He looked at her curiously as he quickly tied the laces without looking away from her excited face.

Rose opened the door and pulled him outside into the morning air.

Out by the curb, behind the well-recognized CARDIS was an old yellow car. It had largely rounded edges, four doors and large convex headlights. It was well used but freshly cleaned, glinting in the sun.

He looked at Rose, refusing to get excited from the logical conclusion and failing.

“’s a car. I figured you needed to actually get around without me drivin' ya.” She smiled, brushing the hair the wind constantly blew on her face. “Technically you are licensed to drive, though as Mum pointed out, that may have been a mistake on Dad's part…” She tossed her head to the side, smiling. 

“You got me a car?” he stuttered, his mouth open in shock, confusion and delight.

“Well,” she said like he would, pausing a bit after drawing out the word as she looked toward the yellow object in question, “I got you most of a car. ’s not quite... working… yet. Not well. 's not fixed up, only way I could get it for less'en and arm and a leg.” Rose cringed a little, obviously hoping to have done more, “No idea how to do it myself, I can change the oil or change a tire, I guess I could try an’ learn but...” She sighed, turning to face him directly and smiling. “Figured after the job you did on the new fancy toaster you’d want to supe-up this one. Ya know, remote control thing, alarm thing, inertia-thing…”

He excitedly silenced her mouth with his, hands on her upper arms in his exhilaration. This sweet gesture wasn’t unlike her, but at the very least unwarranted.

The kiss, however, seemed fairly mandatory, not simply to say thanks but because she was Rose and wonderful and there, 100 days of there. He poured his adoration and appreciation and love into it, softly caressing her tongue and lips with his own.

A smile lingered on his lips the moment they parted, which, frankly, may have been a few minutes after they started. 1 minutes 12 seconds. He _may_ have been adding them up and hoarding that number away, too. And a similar number. Many Rose-related numbers, really. Rose licked her lips and brushed her hair out of her face as she grinned.

“Like it, then?” she wrapped her arms around his neck, staying close as her eyes reflected the sunny yellow of the car. “A good _Bessie_ _Two_?”

“Well, I don’t know,” the Doctor thought for a moment, hand on her hip, gently rubbing it absently, “Alternate time, alternate universe, alternate car… alternate name. Lizzy, maybe?” Rose laughed.

“Lizzy’s good.” She nodded, a ridiculously shiny smile plastered on her face, “Then you can fix up _Lizzy_ later, right now we have to get you to the tube and off to work.” She removed her arms and walked backwards slowly, leading him towards the CARDIS behind her, “an’ watch your seat, there’s banana bread on it.” Rose winked and opened the driver's door. He quickly moved to the passenger side, picking up the foil-wrapped item and gleefully sitting in the seat with a plop. He smelled the foil-wrapped loaf with glee and leaned over and stole a quick kiss from Rose before buckling in.

“Car and banana bread! Anything else I should expect today?”


	3. Visit

Checking in at the office went off without a tic. She wasn't sure if it was her causal demeanor, her 'classic Rose' outfit of a causal pink hoodie that showed very little of her tank top and jeans, or the fact that the office seemed happy to be rid of her in favor of the hustle and bustle of the actual school day.

“Sign in and you're off” vaguely smiled a woman behind the counter, shoving what looked like a ledger at her and giving her get only instruction for actually going to see J. Smith. She took the attached pen and write Rose Tyler beneath a few more names as she took a visitors sticky from the basket beside it.

“Thanks. Can I get any help getting to the physics lab?” Rose asked, sticking the piece of paper clearly marking her a visitor prominently on her chest.

“We've two, they're both in the East wing, there.” The woman pointed to the left before returning to what seemed to be her job of sitting at a computer and clicking determinedly.

“Thanks.” Rose smiled and waved, leaving the offices glass door open and walking in a direction the woman had indicted. Rose didn't think the walk would be long, but quickly found out she was mistaken as the hall wound on, obvious noises through the very not sound proof doors indicating things like French class and English class taught by several voices she didn't recognize. A stray girl in the hall stopped and almost had a look of recognition on her face, though obviously torn.

“'scuse me,” Rose asked the girl as she looked around, “Sorry, but I’m trying to find Doctor, Um, Professor Smith’s class? Been a bit vague.” She smiled to the young girl.

“Yeah, ‘sover there.” Said the young girl quietly, pointing a few doors down just as a class let out early from another door, fairly rambunctious students spilling forth and nattering. She caught one of them in the eye.

“That's bleedin' Rose Tyler!” she heard one say. Quick as she could, Rose walked to the door associated with the Doctor and slipped in, ducking the potential mob of onlookers … not having checked this classroom for it’s 20-odd captive onlookers first, with fairly wide, happy-to-be distracted eyes. 

...And a pair of brown eyes gaping from the man himself.

Rose almost blushed, but stayed at her position against the door and gave him a sheepish wave with one hand, her arm still against the door carrying a small, dangling container.

“Right,” the Doctor turned to the class as he began walking around his desk toward her, “Uh. Class hold on a second.” He stood close to Rose and whispered, “Trouble?”

“Only when I made the mistake of trying to visit you for lunch.” She whispered back as she held up the small clear container with fairy cakes and edible ball bearings hanging from one of her hands.

He smiled and turned to the seated people in the room who all seemed to be thankful for the break from having to fake learning “Right. Class, this is… Rose. She’s...” he looked at the mix of astonished and happily distracted faces from around the room. “…going to sit in the back of the class until the lesson is over.”

His students mumbled a little bit, turning their heads both to her as she walked to the very back of the room and each other. They sat a bit straighter and looked forward when the Doctor pointedly cleared his throat.  
He started nattering on about something they were learning, though even the back of their heads, as Rose could see, seemed a bit inattentive.

“What is the difference between kinetic and potential energy?” he asked, waiting patiently for a raised hand or spoken word to answer him. “Okay… Can anyone tell me how to even spell potential?” still nothing from the now mumbling class. Then more obvious. “What color is this folder?” Nothing. “Right.” He looked exasperated. “Alright, ask her questions.”

Rose was instantly mobbed by trivia. Her eyes widened as the questions flew forward, invisible armies of words directed right at her. Some were questions that she wouldn’t be able to answer, though most were silly things like her favorite places to shop, a few of them were even questions regarding her life out of the spotlight until a few years ago… though that answer would seem self evident by the third degree she was getting at the moment regardless of the actual answer being a bit too sci-fi and confusing.

“How do you know Dr. Smith?” piped in one of the voices, clearer and louder than the previous questions.  
Rose immediately stuttered and looked to the Doctor, now closing his eyes and rubbing his neck with a small smile playing on his face as his ears slowly reddened and he looked at no one and nothing.

“Uh… I’m his…”

“Are you his Sweetheart?” interrupted a student. The Doctor and Rose turned to each other quickly. They blinked and smiles as she then turned back to the class.

“Yes?” she sounded unsure at first but… she was sure. So sure. And by the look on his face, so was he. They both smiled a bit wider. She nodded back to the students almost immediately, “Yes.”

“I said so! He’s that bloke Inna magazine! He just all fuzzy now!” another student said, flailing an arm about in the Doctor's direction. “Did you grow vat fink jussa avoid people reconizin' ya?” the Doctor rubbed his ear as Rose stared at him, wanting to hear his reply to that herself. He was saved from having to come up with a cogent answer by his classroom door opening and an angry-looking head teacher -complete with stereotypical tweed and very apparent lack of social life- entered his classroom.

The Doctor instinctively took a step in front of Rose, almost as if blocking her from the verbal barbs that would inevitably be slung forth from his unhappy coworker-slash-boss.

“Smith. You've got a crowd outside your classroom that’s disturbing my class.” His voice boomed seriously, grumbling. “and they’re taking a test. I’m assuming you’ve got a good reason for the mob. Another light show? We asked you to get those approved.” The man crossed his arms. the Doctor started forward, passing the other man up and stuck his head out the door.

Easily a dozen kids milled the halls, half pretending and looking at other things, half of them giggling and trying to look passed him into the class to see if the rumors were true. The Doctors eyes narrowed, his classroom stare-down with terse voice slowly becoming legendary at this school.

“You’ve all got somewhere to be. Be there.” He ordered, most of the people milling quickly shuffling off in different directions as the Doctor shut the door again and turned around.

Rose was smiling and shaking the grumpy man’s hand. The Doctor scrunched his face a bit, walking back beside his… how did that student put it? Sweetheart. He walked beside his sweetheart and regarded the look on the head teacher's face. The man before her was… blushing? It would have been a normal look on anyone else but this form of awestruck was a new look, obviously using facial muscles that that face wasn’t used to using.

“Right, well,” stuttered the head teacher, “Smith,” he immediately turned to the Doctor, surprising him slightly. “Don’t let it happen again.”

“My fault, I won’t bother the class again, just got the time a bit wrong is all.” Rose defended, happy to take rightful blame off the man beside her.

“Happens to the best of us,” muttered the Doctor with a smile on his face. She instinctively elbowed him, using her arm to hold up her other arm to her chin.

“Lovely to meet you, Miss Tyler.” He took her hand and kissed it gentlemanly, making the class make noises about the elder teacher making moves on Smith's sweetheart. “I'd love for you to stop by my classroom before you leave. It’s the English class three doors down.” he said that last part with narrowed eyes at the Doctor.

“Love to, Mr. Kipperly.” Rose half laughed and waved as the man quickly left the classroom.

It didn’t take very long, or any actual learning to take place, before the class bell rung. The students looked hopefully from their tables, unmoving.

“Go on,” Doctor nodded his head to the side to usher the kids out as they gathered their things and grumbly exited the class, quite a few chatting or spending time to gushingly say goodbye to Rose.

The class was finally emptied and the Doctor locked his classroom door before turning around to look seriously at Rose. She immediately started talking.

“'m sorry, so sorry, I really wasn’t aimin’—"

“Shush. They were ahead today anyway. Plus,” He looked almost proud as he walked to his desk at the head of the class. He gathered a few things from his desk drawer and shut it. “I’m guessing you’ve just made me their new favorite teacher with the famous Sweetheart. How did you get ol' Kipperly to be so nice to you, anyway? He’s easily the most cranky teacher here.”

Rose shrugged and opened her case, handing him a cupcake with his favorite edible ball bearings before taking one for herself and pulling down one side of the paper surrounding her treat. “He likes Dickens.”


	4. Learning

Rose looked around at her previously well-appointed bedroom. Four months ago it was bare, a place to sleep. Three months ago it started to get life in it, clothes migrated and filled the closet, slowly mingling with another person's before living in an odd harmony, then doubling in size and mutating into a place she wouldn’t have recognized a year ago.

Homey.

Domestic. _Ish_.

Though, it hadn’t taken long after that for the sticky notes to take over. Neon yellow and orange squares all over the bedroom. Every surface had at least one. The bed had three, only three because those hadn't managed to fall off though all the normal use of the bed as the other half dozen had. Dresser, closet, walls… though, the open wall had them displayed in straight rows of fairly similar circles in an order that didn't seem to make logical sense. Circles, dots and spots nestled themselves between two seemingly completely different foreign languages. She was told some said 'bed' and ‘mirror' on the bed and mirror, but there was simply no way for there to be that many words for mirror. There was inevitably mirror, glass, reflective, silver, flat… anything that daft man thought applied to it. There were more phrases and sentences splattered in random places. Four on her vanity, one on her make-up, three in the en suite door -though they were banned from inside the bathroom on the insistence that there were some words she didn’t need to know. She grabbed a pen disguised as a fake flower and scrawled something in the small space left on the paper in front of her as she mouthed out the word in attempt to make it sound right in her mouth ‘ _Arkytior_?'

All the notes turned up in varying degrees on the same side as the bed room door swung open.

“Still studying?” the Doctor walked in and smirked as he opened the drawer on his side of the bed and retrieved his glasses. She stayed facing the wall looking from one note to another before drawing on a notepad in her hands.

“Don't you make fun of me!” Rose pointed the pen accusingly in his direction, “‘S not easy, yeah? A lot to remember, three languages.”

“It’s _one_ language, three ways of writing. I told you just to concentrate on one and the other ones will fall into place. You’re doing so well at hearing the spoken language, these shouldn't be too hard.”

“An’ that's what I'm trying to do,” she sighed, “it's like decoding hieroglyphs over here, only they all translate to another language I barely speak and need translatin' again back to English, an' sometimes need translatin’ _again_ to _plain_ English. ’s very frustrating.” The Doctor took her pen and looked at the note she just wrote on, penning a quick ‘ _Rose_ ’ under it.

“There, translated.” He smiled, putting the pen back down. “Arkytior. It’s a flower, though also used as a name. It isn't really a rose, but often used by my people in the same manner a rose is used by your people. My granddaughter’s name was Arkytior.” The look on her face was a little shock, the Doctor rarely spoke of his granddaughter.

“I thought she was Susan?” Rose squished her mouth to one side a moment.

“Well she was. Her grandfather would know her real name, spouses, parents, grandparents, children. Any directly linked to a person would know a person’s proper name. A bit like how you have a middle name but not many people know it, except you’re less likely to just tell someone if they ask.”

“So they all knew yours, too.” Rose surmised, not having put that together before, “and everyone else calls you the Doctor.”

“Or Professor or John or Mr. Smith, but yes” he admitted, “with knowing the name of my people comes, well, knowledge of the person. Less so with parents and children and grandchildren, that’s just a fact to them, but to things like wives and husbands who are told by the person it comes with the knowledge of their lives, linking the two. Like a dance party, you can know it exists without getting the invitation. Now there aren’t even any people who knows about the party at all, which isn't bad. It’s my party.” Rose clamped her mouth, trying not to laugh at him for that analogy. The Doctor noticed and rolled his eyes playfully, “It's almost like Voldemort, his name has power, that’s why they call him he-who-must-not-be-named instead.”

“Are you _Lord_ _Voldemort_ , then?” she almost laughed. He thought on that and scratched an eyebrow.

“Oh, I’m sure I have been.” He paused, looking at her and slowly smiling, “These days I’m _at_ _best_ his underling.”

“So I’m not likely to find your name hidden among all these daft stickies, then?” she said, once again looking around at the almost completely yellow-and-orange neon wall. She hadn’t really expected to find his name written there, it seemed a bit far fetched to find such an intimate subject hidden amongst differentiations of their/there/they’re or their _twelve_ equivalent stickies—as only three notes and usages of vaguely the same word would apparently be _too_ easy.

“No,” the Doctor said seriously as he shook his head. “I’m unlikely to write that down. Not out here. It’s secure in here but not as secure as the TARDIS. It’d be like telling everyone despite no one being able to read it because I’m the only one who can read this. Except you,” he fidgeted, “though, you’ll likely know.” He pulling a quickly reddening ear. “it’s, uh, shared at bondings. Wedding ceremonies.”

“Oh?” She was caught by surprise and froze, her eyes darting to him and her head slowly following after them.

“Yeah.” He caught her eyes before smirking and coughing to cover it, trying to distract for the possible alleys of conversation. The Doctor tilted onto his heels as he forced his attention to the wall, clearing his throat and changing the subject as he looked at more notes with her scrawling writing beneath them, “You’re doing well for only a few weeks of this.”

“You’re a good teacher.” She said absently, turning back to the wall and trying to calm her growing blush. “I'm pretty sure I could learn anything from you.” He immediately brightened, his mouth opened but she quickly turned to cut him off, “Except physics. I draw the line at physics.”

His mouth shut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, the name thing is a bit of a departure from the theories of others. But in the original series (way back in the 60s) Susan gave the Doctor a present with his name on it, so it bugs me that only wives would know names.
> 
> Also… I like in jokes. I’m fairly sure I’ve officially seen too many DT things to avoid making small jokes.


	5. Settled

“Well it was either this or a party, an' we settled on this rather than have Mum throw a thing.” Rose shuddered.

“Any excuse to throw a thing.” The Doctor grumbled a bit. “It isn’t like we know a lot of people who would understand what we’re celebrating. We could have just gone out with Tony.” He said as Rose pulled into the great circle drive in front of her parent’s house. She laughed and parked, sitting back in her seat.

“Yeah, ‘cept it seems that every time we take him out we get attacked by somethin' harmless that turns out not to be harmless,” she tilted her head a little in thought, smiling, “or get attacked by entirely too cute li'l aliens who want to steal him with a crown that electrocutes people who try to take it off, or—"

“He is a magnet for trouble, your brother. Must be a Tyler thing.” He smirked, putting his hand on the door, “Jeopardy Friendly Tylers.”

“Yes. Definitely just Tylers and _not_ the company we keep when the trouble happens.” She opened the car door, confident the conversation wouldn’t veer into something that wouldn’t be overheard by a certain mother.

“Oi, you’re always safe.” He opened his door and got out swiftly.

“I didn’t say we weren’t. Just pointing out another reason, is all. Besides, Mum an' Dad wanted to celebrate you, too.” Rose closed the door to the car, joining him on the way to the front door.

 

 

It took exactly 15 minutes and 26 seconds after dinner before Jackie changed from Celebration Mode into Mummy Mode. Which, frankly, was about right. Aside from the now traditional habit of him and Rose giving Tony a bedtime story, it was the last piece of truly expected behavior these family dinners included.  
The Doctor casually mentioned waking up early. He skipped many of the details, and to his chagrin, accidentally lead Jackie to one of her favorite topics.  
Their house.

“Redoin' the floors on the house? 'sa good choice, those carpets needed replacin'. That house is a bit big, mind, probably seem bigger with good carpets. And I don’t see why you don’t just put that wall back up an' move into one side, or get a new one. That place is too big for ya.” Jackie poured hot tea in a few mugs, completely forgoing the nice china for her family as she charged into her biweekly argument against their living conditions.

“Pot calling the kettle, Mum. This house is enormous!” Rose waved her arms around, indicating the vaulted ceilings and gigantic room.

“Well we have guests an' parties and friends, not to mention Tony with all his wanderin' around! You don’t seem to be havin’ any of that.” Both Pete The Doctor suddenly had fear in their eyes at Jackie’s words, “Not that I’m saying to make yourselves your own Tony, I’m just not prepared for that.” Jackie looked a shell-shocked Doctor up and down derisively as she handed him a mug.

“Oh, good, this isn’t awkward at all.” He managed to say, backing his way out of the conversation as best he could as he took his tea. Rose couldn’t help but chuckle.

“I’m sayin' we have things ta go with the big house. You two just have a house that’s too big fer the two of ya!”

“Mum, we’re keepin' our house the way it is. S ours, yeah? Not yours.” Rose shook her head at the slight nag.

“Well at least buy new furniture! Dunno why you’re so set on all that old stuff.”

“It's fitting,” Pete interjected, deciding to hedge his bets and attempt to quell the rapid-fire mother-daughter banter.

“It’s used! An' they're not exactly on a budget.” Jackie looked at Pete, obviously signaling that he had chosen incorrectly by not being behind her 100%. “Unless you’re sayin' our only daughter deserves less'en the best…”

“Mum!” Rose managed to interrupt her mother's attempt at an epic shaming of her father, half laughing, “It’s vintage, an’ comfy, an' we like it. Like you said, we’re not exactly on a budget, so it’s not like we’re just aimin' to save money. We’re just waitin' to find the right stuff. Not an easy adjustment when you’re livin' with him and not immediately gettin' any furniture ya want.”

“Oh, I don’t mind,” said the Doctor to Rose, hoping not to be included in why Jackie would have a problem, having seen the staring that took place when Pete did.

“Was talkin' 'bout _me_ , not you.” She pat his hand reassuringly with a smile, “The last place I called home read my mind, dunno 'bout you but I got used to it.” Rose winked at him.

“Well, still. 'bout time you settled in.” Jackie mumbled, crossing her legs as she sat on the sofa.

“We’re …settled. Pretty settled, I guess. Kind of settled.” The Doctor shrugged.

“Mickey was settled and he left half of his stuff, it’s no big indication, Mum. We’re not gonna just take off without telling ya.” Rose calmly sighed, looking at her obviously flustered mother.

“I know!” Jackie crossed her arms, looking the pair up and down, “Not puttin' it passed ya, though. Wanderers, you are.” Rose and the Doctor shared a smile at that.

“ _Wanderers_.” The Doctor said under his breath, chuckling a little.

“Rule One-in' all over the place, us.” Rose said with a smile, waggling her eyebrows at the Doctor as her tongue went between her teeth.

“Oi, I don’t want to know!” Jackie quickly protested. The Doctor stuttered to reply, making Rose laugh.

“Oh, Mum!” Rose started laughing. She only laughed harder at Jackie's further waving dismissal and putting her hands by her ears, Rose almost doubling over as she tried to calm herself. The Doctor smiled as Jackie rolled her eyes at her daughter.

“Jackie, _Rule One_ was Don’t Wander Off.” The Doctor corrected, patting Rose's back and smirking as she stood and her laughter subsided into small, chesty chuckles. “Here were are, not wandering… had nothing to do with… the other thing.”

“Oh, yeah?” she smirked, “Then what’s _Rule_ _Two_?” Jackie asked, putting her hands on her hips expectantly, awaiting an answer to dissuade her from what seemed to be the logical conclusion.

The Doctor wasn’t expecting that, his jaw fell open and he stuttered a bit, pulling at his ear slightly. “We, uh,” he paused and tilted his head to the side momentarily, “Well, we never really got that far.”

Rose burst into laughter again.


	6. Shock

Since he'd been around he'd gotten used to her little touches again. They needed getting used to, he had gone without them longer than he’d been with them.

Accidental bumps, standing close for no other reason than standing close, jubilant hugs, excitedly hanging onto his arm while they walked, hand holding while running. Now with their recent foray into full-on cuddle sessions and kisses, among the other things, they were happily becoming a norm again, an expected behavior wherein the complete lack of her touch in the last few years seemed like an unimaginable nightmare. At times he even took a minute to revel in them, proving it was really her and reminding him that they were together and that, yes, this 100 days was real. Her real hand was in his, not the phantom hand in his it had been for the years intervening or the ill-fitting though not unpleasant hands of people who were distinctly _not_ Rose.

Tonight was another night of his looking over a plan for the next day of class scrawled in a note book, Rose reading on the sofa, while relaxing and listening to songs on the radio. He sat on the floor by her legs, folding over pages of a yellow note book, laying absently against her as she distractedly played with his hair and scratched his head while she read. The comfort of her head scratches were diverting his attention from his notes every so often, his mind needing to jerk back to the reality of work more and more often as the scratching wore on. Eventually, he leaned his head into it and closed his eyes, letting the comfort wash over him as he leisurely shut the notes.

“You make it very hard to concentrate,” he muttered.

“Poor baby.” Rose deadpanned, not looking away from the written words before her. She smiled a bit, scratching a little more vigorously in response. He tilted his head more so the stationary hand would reach the side of his head, even itching a bit of his sideburn and beard, the soft touch of her fingers causing him to almost moan. She let out a small chesty chuckle and ruffled his hair gently.

“I somehow doubt this can be worked into your lesson.” She further massaged his scalp, occasionally moving to stroke separate strands of his hair.

“Oh, you’d be surprised.” He mumbled, nestling his head further onto her leg, letting it rest as she rubbed his hair. "Big Old Time Lord brain." Rose put her book down beside her lap and gently caressed the side of his head with both hands, running her fingers along his beard and up his sideburn to his hairline, hearing a faint hum of pleasure as she massaged his hair.

He smiled in the serenity of the moment, content echoed through the room.

A small jolt left her fingers to his skin, pictures quickly flashing in his mind. Donna. A view. A ship.

Her hands instinctively recoiled a little at the surprise.  
It was less than a second, less than a centimeter, but more than ignorable.

Immediately his eyes snapped open and he turned his head. Not fully realizing that his hand had flown to her wrist, holding the hand exactly where it was.

“Did you feel that?”

“Static, yeah?” Rose was obviously willing to have easily written off the shock but his reaction was tilting her towards the not-a-common-occurrence side of things.

“Bit odd for static.” He slowly drew her hand back to his head, placing her fingers back along his temples. As soon as they neared, more static flew between his head and her finger tips, too quickly to determine a start or the end. More images flew though his mind; quick, flat images. Immediately she tried to jerk her hand back, but it was stifled by his gentle grasp.

“Well I felt _that_ ,” Rose's eyes widened.

“What.” He seemingly demanded the hand trapped motionless in his grasp. “ _What_?!”

Rose looked into those completely opened brown eyes of his as the still concentrated on her hand. She could tell that millisecond tiny jolt may as well have been a never-ending lightening bolt.

“My hand likely to answer your questions, then?” She said, putting her hand over his that still held her wrist. 

He tentatively let go with an apologetic look. She brought in closer to herself, inspecting her fingers, looking for redness or irritation and seeing nothing but the pinkening of her blood flow under her finger tips.

He scrambled to get out of his seated position, notes and pen falling from their spot on his lap, pen skittering across the smooth floor as he pushed himself to stand.

“So _not_ static, yeah?”

He mounted the big blue sofa, kneeling on it as he seemed to study her like a book or a new alien he’d not seen before.

“Would love an answer, Doctor.” Rose swallowed, staying as calm as her face would allow, she twitched her eyebrows, leaning back slightly in amusement as his studying seemed to inch him closer.

“No… um. Rose, sweetheart," he was obviously trying to be calmer than he actually was, "what were you thinking?”

“Donno?” she ran her hand through her hair by her forehead, “Your hair, I guess. I had to describe you to Donna… in that other world.” She scrunched her face somberly. That other world wasn’t anything she enjoyed thinking about.

“Yeah. In a park.” The Doctor said a bit breathily, seeming more to talk to himself than her. “I saw it.”

“Saw it?” Rose blinked and shook her head, “You were… I mean, Doctor, you were dead. Unless you’re more Donna than you think—”

“No. It wasn’t from Donna. It’s from you.” He trailed off as he took the sides of her face in his hands and quickly searched her eyes. He kept looking superficially, not daring to go in.

She put her hands on his shoulders, pulling his attention from looking over her like a puzzle and more to her as a person. “But I never told you about that.”

“You didn't tell me.” The Doctor's eyes narrowed, not seeming to look at anything in particular as they unfocused, “You let me know.”

“How?” Rose's mouth fell open a little in astonishment before she had to consciously shut it.

“That's the point. There's not even supposed to be a how for you but here we are. You were thinking about me and touching my head… I saw it. Pictures. a park, a Sontaran ship, and Donna…”

“Okay.” Rose blinked, sliding her hands off him absently while she considered. “That’s… terrifically disturbing. How did—”

“How! Good question, how. There's a how. _How_ is there a how?!” His single heart raced as he looked to the left and right quickly. The Doctor bolted up off the sofa and grabbed his jacket, sonic in the breast pocket where he left it before walking back to her and scanning her head. “Should be a ridiculous question ‘how’ but it's not, even more so that there's likely an answer. This shouldn’t be there at all much less a how.” The device whirred in different tones, causing her to almost try to memorize the notes of the whir and quick blips it seemed to bounce between with semi-worried breath. He studied the screwdriver, trying to do his best at not letting anything show on his face but his eyes betrayed that it was telling him nothing. He took her face in both his hands again, looking over her whole head like it had grown horns, “I mean I know how, and likely _how_ the how happened but the why part of the how—”

Rose put her hands on his wrists gently, pulling his attention to her from his thoughts to ground him again, “Babbling, Doctor.”

“Sorry.” He swallowed, his Adam’s Apple bobbing quite distinctly. “Humans can’t do that. I can, other species can, humans don't work that way. But I didn't do anything and you're still very human, so…”

“S the Wolf thing again, right? 'S the echo. That’s the how or the how how or whatever, yeah?” He looked into her light brown eyes, searching for something before settling, locked in her gaze.

He couldn't tell in that moment which emotion won: Elation that she was the one mind he desperately wanted to be able to connect with and the possibilities this held? Fear of the largely unknown changes she partook in, or fear that they could lead to the relatively known consequences? Trepidation of the same? Guilt that this was, for better or worse, all his fault?

No matter what the emotion, his lips seemed pulled to hers like a strong magnet. He caressed her lips gently in his own, Rose surprised but reciprocating. Slowly he pressed, his body encroaching on hers as she leaned back to accommodate him, his hands pulling him tighter to her as they leaned steadily backward onto the cushions.

Her eyes shot open in realization and he finally released her mouth when they both needed proper air, leaving his face within inches of hers.

“So, um.” Rose clamped her lips together in a small smile and blinked exaggeratedly a few times.

“Yeah,” he finished her vague thought with his own, nodding slightly, breathing heavily, His eyes expressing that he was bound and determined to resume his lips’ previous position as soon as possible.

She blinked, looking into his deep brown eyes, his excited, rhythmic breathing speeding hers back up as he moved slowly closer to her.

“Is, uh,” she let her need for answers overwhelm her need for his mouth to be on hers, “is it bad?” Rose asked as calmly as she could. “for me, I mean.”

“I don’t know.” The Doctor shook his head slowly, moving instead to kiss the crook of her neck, the heat from his lips softly feeding the emotion of the skin beneath them.

“Obviously not bad for you, though.” She breathed out, laughing slightly to herself at his enthusiasm.

 His mouth travelled up soft skin before he realized, pausing where he was as he realized. “Yeah, sorry.” He spoke softly into her nearby ear. He lifted his head slightly, changing his position as his body prepared to move from hers. Rose clenched her arms and held him still in protest, “ _Little_ exciting.” Rose crunched her lips to one side as her spoke, turning her head to look back into his face as she watched his smile fade slightly. “Scary, but exciting.”

“Sounds like our lives, really.” She sighed, sensing the end of their intense kisses was about to come and start the frustrating series of hows and whys. She stroked his cheek gently, letting him back off her, “Scary an' exciting.” Rose sighed and propped herself up on her elbows.

“There are receivers, mediums and psychics, but not… transmitting is _not_ something your species can do. But you obviously can… I mean, this is impossible, so not exactly something where I’d know the likely outcome.” He grumbled, “and not knowing…” the Doctor huffed.

“You keep using that word, impossible.” Rose pulled herself up to a sitting position, oddly calm. “A few years ago impossible meant a different thing to me.” She put her hand on his arm, trying to make sure he was calm, too. “Leaving the Estates was impossible… more than that, shop window dummies comin’ to life was impossible, Time Travel was impossible.” She absently fiddled with his shirt beneath her fingers, “Turns out none of those were impossible, ‘cause they happened. It’s _impossible_ to cross universes, an' then it’s not. That planet was _impossible_ , Krop Tor, but it was there. It’s impossible to be a human Time Lord,” she motioned to him, “an’ then it’s not. Bloody _Jack’s_ impossible, yeah? But there he is, full possible.”

“and they all had to do with… you.” His eyes narrowed in thought, “You _were_ in the journal of _impossible_ things.”

“Th’wha’?” Rose blinked. He smirked slightly and waved it off. She shook her head and continued, “ _I_ was impossible? Have you met _you_?” she smiled a bit, “We do the impossible all the time, seems like. So maybe I’m not… not impossible, yeah? Just a bit unlikely.”

He wrapped his hand around hers, fingers lacing automatically.

“ _Impossible_ …” The Doctor smiled, reaching over to push her unruly post-amorous hair from her flushed face, barely daring to let his fingertips skim her skin. “It shouldn’t be wrong, but where you’re involved… I think it will be.”


	7. In

His hands placed her fingers over his temples, by his sinuses and around his eyes in a delicate pattern, pressing them gently into soft skin.

“This’s weird.” Rose awkwardly said, huffing a soft but forced chuckle. “No idea what ’m doing.”

“You may not have to, you keep instinctively doing it so it shouldn’t take considerable effort.” He forced a smile. “Trust yourself,” He put a hand comfortingly on the crux her neck, running his thumb back and forth gently.

“Makin’ it sound easy.” Rose laughed, “attempting the impossible, yeah?”

“Which means it'll be easy for you,” he smiled to her and winked, attempting to mask slightly unsettled feelings.

“You’re nervous,” she stated easily, simply from confusing look on his face as she gazed at him. “or I’m nervous.” She shook her head a bit trying to shake off the feelings that she couldn’t hide with an awkward smile, “Right now I’m pretty sure _the_ _sofa's_ nervous.”

The Doctor smiled, “Yup. Nervous Doctor, but if there's one person who simultaneously calms me down and puts me more on edge than anyone else, it seems to be you. You'll think of something.”

She tried to think of something.

Maybe trying too hard.

Trying to think about something—anything—was making her draw a blank.

“No idea what to think of.” Rose admitted, grimacing.

“Maybe… an easy one? Like your favorite place.” He voice was soft and assuring.

“Yeah, easy.” Rose huffed, now having at least a direction to think in and…

Still not thinking of anything.

It was easy, wasn’t it? _Easy_?

She couldn’t manage it. She had to sort through all the places she can think of, which would have been hard enough, but her favorite? Out of all of they places they travelled together? She could even seem to think of a single example let alone her favorite! Like it was a question on a maths test and you’d skipped every day if this section. _That_ blank.

For quite a few minutes.

Complete. Sodding. Blank.

Why that was amusing, she had no idea.

It was stupid. And frustrating! How many places had the TARDIS taken them? Hundreds! And she couldn’t think of even _one_?!

She sat there. Hands on his face. Eyes closed. Doing nothing. Wanting to scream in frustration. Or laugh.

“This is ridiculous.” She grumbled, sighing. She began to take her hands off his face until his hands gently laid on top of them, stopping her.

“It’s really not.” His voice had a quality… was he laughing at her?

“It is.” She straightened up, opening her eyes as he lethis hands off of hers, confident that she wasn't going to try and remove them again. “I can’t think of anything to say! ‘S like my mind is just blank. I can’t think. Easy, yeah? Favorite place. Couldn’t even think! That hill overseeing the city in New New York! Or home at Christmas! Or Cardiff with snow and carriages and I couldn’t think of any of them!”

“…And you were frustrated and you felt stupid. Then you thought of us on the TARDIS.” Rose perked up suddenly and looked directly at him, her eyes going wide at his now open brown ones. The Doctor scratched a sideburn, looking off to the side for a second, “And then a maths class and shopping for some reason, but the TARDIS again.” He looked back at her and smiled. “Saw some pretty clear images, Rose. Well, felt and saw.” He smirked, holding a chuckle in his chest as he rubbed his eye. “I don't quite understand the maths class.”

“Right, so I can do this, apparently.” Rose blinked, not addressing his curiosity and a bit embarrassed that it was seen at all. She straightened her hunched back and pushed backwards into the back of the chair, relaxing a bit that her perceived stupidity was, well, all in her head. “Dunno how useful it is when it might be easier to just tell ya whatever you want to know.”

“It’s a skill. New language, new way of communicating...”  
Rose's mind suddenly immersed in visions, deliriously fast scenes of people moving, dancing, barking, clicking, no mouths…  
"…there are loads of ways to communicate.”

Rose flinched from the surprise of it. “I can see that.” Her eyes blinked, or at least she had every intention of blinking, but her eyes instinctively stayed closed. She felt the muscles of his face change, like he was smiling. When she was about to open her eyes, Rose was flooded with warm feelings and an image of… him. The Doctor, standing in front of her… which made her open an eye briefly to make sure he has, in fact, sitting before her in the sitting room, same position as before with a small grin forming on his face—she closed her eyes quickly and the Doctor is her mind was walking up to her as he shook his head and chuckled at her disbelief. The smile grew. It grew passed his _I-have-a-plan_ smile and his _I’m-being-adorably-clever_ smile, that eerily familiar smile, the glee, the face she saw on the street not-so-long ago. Excited and happy and warm. He chuckled lovingly at her, making his smile even more brilliant. Rose’s breath caught in her chest, seemingly unable to handle the sheer amount of love simply emanating from him. Her face flushed and a low flutter in her belly made her almost giddy. She knew he was sitting across from her, but she felt his hand around her waist, she felt him pressing against her body, felt him softly touch her chin and gently tilt it up to press his soft lips against hers tenderly.

 _'My Rose_ '

Rose immediately shuddered and pulled back her hands, leaving them both cold and shocked. The warmth she had garnered from his, from his feelings of her suddenly vanished as their connection did, leaving her with a sudden shiver, shock of air. Rose blinked.

“Rose? Are you alright?” the Doctor quietly said, fear trickling into his voice.

Breathing heavily, hungrily, looking at him through her eyelashes as her head tilted down just before pouncing on him, gathering him up in her arms and crashing her lips upon his. It took him a moment but his arms wrapped around her quickly, his lips attempting to match hers in voracity but simply beginning to chuckle beneath her kiss. She pulled away slightly, speaking only thing keeping her lips from his as she tried in vain to catch her breath, “You couldn't hide. Or you could, but didn't. Honestly that's… the most… you you've ever been, yeah?”

“Its,” this was going g to be fun to explain, she could tell by the look on his face that there wasn’t going to be a simple explanation for this, any of this, and this was likely the last thing he planned on doing today. Well, they both knew what he planned on doing today. “It’s the me for you. Mostly. It’s what you elicit.”

“You’re always… well you were, on the TARDIS, you,” Rose seemed to be having a hard time collecting her thoughts, she let a deep sigh release from her chest as the Doctor gently caressed her face. She leaned into his touch, gathering her thoughts “I had to guess. I learned, but I was never sure. That was… that was sure.” Rose swallowed, smiling almost shyly, “very lovely. Unless you lied, which I don’t know if I want to know.”

“That can’t really lie, Rose. Omit, yes, but…” she stopped his explanation with a soft kiss.

Rose blinked her eyes as if they were readjusting to the unchanging light and rubbed her forehead slightly. Tears formed in the crux of her eyes, but he could no longer tell if they were happy or sad, from the look of the rapidly growing redness in her eyes and paleness of her face it was more from… pain.

Which was a little unsettling.

She kissed him again softly, shifting slightly to his side and resting her head in his shoulder.

“I think I’ma head to bed. Bit of a headache now.” She grumbled into his neck as she scooted off him with obviously pained face.

“I’ll make you some tea and join you.”

Rose nodded as she made her way to the stairs, her eyes open weakly. “Tea sounds good. Tea and paracetamol.” She smiled faintly at him before she turned and went up to their room

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been so long!  
> Life caught up with me and my free time got eaten by the need to get four Halloween costumes together. The only reason I was able to write anything today was because I didn't have the right supplies.  
> I'll try to get back to a schedule!


	8. Migraines

Light hurt, so she had closed her eyes. Light still shown through her eyelids, filling her vision with the red backdrop with soft blue at the edges and making her shut them tightly, which only hurt her forehead. The normally familiar and comforting soft whir of his oft-used tool was incredibly noisy right now.

“Oi,” Rose moaned, instinctively making a blind attempt at a pat to move his screwdriver-laden hand away, “Scan me with that again an’ I’ll shove it places. ‘s not showin' up no matter how many times you do it.”

“But it should. I should be seeing something.” He grumbled, looking at the screwdriver again, hitting it with his other hand. “But all it shows is normal blood flow and no irregularities within your mind… I may need to upgrade again to get any solid answers but so far—"

“It’s a migraine, Doctor. I know how to deal with a bloody migraine.” Her voice was groggy and quiet, “It starts with not gettin' scanned by a sonic.” Rose managed to swat the metal object in his hand and give it a playful shove toward him, “Likely has more tea throughout,” He scoffed amusedly, momentarily interrupting her list. Tea was Rose Tyler's cure for everything including hangnails, “an’ maybe kisses at the end.” Rose said with a momentary lightness in her voice and a small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth, tempered only by the painful pressure. She threw the back of her hand over her eyes to help block the light. Her forehead visibly relaxed as the hand did it’s job. “Until then, quiet an’ dark, 'swhat I need, Doctor.”

He effortlessly slung the arm with the previously used screwdriver to point it at the lamp near the bed, clicking it on and making it significantly dimmer in the room for her.

“Sorry.” He whispered, kissing her forehead as punctuation. Rose had paled significantly as the migraine set in. In the few moments she could bring herself to keep them open, her eyes reddened and they looked drier than they had been. “It’s just imp—”

“If you say ‘impossible’ again I’m kickin' you out of this bed.” She murmured sternly grumbling, pointing a finger from her non-light-blocking hand in his general direction as she jokingly kicked a leg toward his. He huffed a quiet laugh and laid back down close to her to whisper as softly as he could in her ear.

“Fine, it's” he breathed out evenly, looking to the ceiling and waggling his head a bit, cramming his words together in half the time they’d normally be said, “a part of a series of highly improbable un-replicatable circumstances.” He looked back at her to see her mouth twisted up at the corners slightly, hand still over her eyes.

She breathed out slowly, “Go on.” she snuggled further into the pillow beneath her head, her face now listing a modicum closer to his direction, “I know you’re dyin' ta explain what that big ol' Time Lord brain figured out.” He smirked and propped his torso up on his pillow with his elbow.

“It’s like… a rubber ball,” he spoke softly, “Your mind is a rubber ball that’s only filled up with air to a certain amount. Same amount as all the other humans.Human PSI. Some brains are bigger, some are smaller, but all with the same amount of air percentage, same air pressure. When you were able to do that, which was physically _impo_ —” he cut himself off as he felt her arm lazily hit him, “—not _exactly_ human, your ball filled a bit more, which should mean a different percentage of air, change of the pressure. But the pressure isn’t changing because your mind is stretching and growing to accommodate the extra. Minds don’t do that, at least human ones, they don’t grow to accommodate, but yours is, the byproduct of which is to apparently a headache.”

“’s the echo of Bad Wolf, right?” She asked and assumed, seeming to be a magnet for the not easily explained lately, “or are we blamin’ the void for this one?”

“It more than likely has something to do with your access to the vortex,” The Doctor gruffly answered, clearing his throat. “I haven’t seen that before, no matter how many times I’ve been in your head lately.” He gently grazed her temple with his fingers, gaining her feelings of pressure quickly through the contract and grimacing. It hadn’t taken much to get a view of her pain, so it must have been great.

“The... mind ball, brain ball, whatever… Is it going to burst?” she sounded scared but her hand over her eyes blocked much of her emotional reaction from his view, her body going unnaturally still seemed to tip him off anyway. “Like...” She sighed quietly, free hand going to his arm softly. She didn't need to finish the sentence. He had mentioned the likely outcome of Donna Noble before.

“Doesn’t appear so.” He whispered, stroking her hair to calm her, looking off across the room as he ran over the screwdriver’s calculations in his head. “No,” he sounded relieved as he double checked it starting at it and putting it by his ear in all manner of ability to double check it. “not a Time Lord consciousness, you still have a human brain. Well,” he drew out the word, quickly putting down the screwdriver and pulling her close, “human- _ish_.” The Doctor kissed her forehead and she relaxed into it. Rose laid her head on his shoulder facing his warm neck, reveling in the darkness she found in the shadow of his head and the light feeling of determination and glee seeming to permeate the air around him.

“No evidence that anything is going to burst, just expanding a bit. I’d say I’m very used to the standards of your biology,” he cleared his throat, “—yours specifically never mind your average human—” Rose let out a breath that sounded like it might have been a laugh surrounded by a pained moan, “and that seems to be the only thing that’s even a little different.”

“Does this happen to everyone who can do that?” She asked as if she wasn’t entirely sure she actually wanted the answer. “Maybe baby Time Lords or Bionix teens or undeveloped Sensorites or somethin’?”

“Different gasses, different inflatables, different biology.” He whispered, “Maybe this is what happens if humans were to get that ability.” Rose let out a long sigh. “What?”

“Highly improbable is starting to feel like our normal. ‘S not completely unexpected, but ‘s hard to get used to. Unknown variables, right? Permanently not normal.”

“Well, I don’t know about that. I’m a teacher and you’re sort of a police officer. Seems fairly normal as human lives go.”

“Yeah,” she said softly, her words taking on a slightly croaky sore-throat quality as she strained, “Mr. Professor an' Ms. Police, _def’nitly_ _not_ the brilliant 900 year old Human-Time Lord Metacrisis and his Cinderella'd lost sweetheart with the time vortex in her head. Oh. An’ both from another universe. All totally normal, that.”

“Nothing about our lives is strictly normal by any standards, Sweetheart. And it’s not like there was a Bad Wolf before you. You’re setting precedent, technically if anyone else does that, which I doubt the Old Girl will allow, you’d be the one setting the norm. Not weird then.”

“Fun.” Rose sighed again, her sarcasm and sighing seeming to be her default mode of communication when she had a headache. “But my brain ball… ‘s still in tact, yeah?”

“The only thing I can figure is yours is more like a thick balloon. Ball-ish, still rubber, just less… rigid, and a bit more air in your head.”

“’s that a blonde joke?” Rose's voice carried the quality that she had smirked, or at least tried to, one side of her mouth lifting a touch in her pain. “I’m an air head?”  
He shook his head huffing a quiet chuckle and kissed her forehead, “No, Rose."

“So what you are saying is that this is a mind-meld hangover? Like muscle pains after liftin' somethin’ my muscles aren’t used to?” She surmised, getting even quieter, lifting her hand slightly to look through the shadow at him as he nodded an affirmative. “Good. ‘cause I’m pretty sure we'll need to find a cure fast.” Rose smiled, genuine and warm with little slivers of her open eyes twinkling at him happily though the rest of her face was bogged down in pain. “Don’t know about you, but I’d like to try that again, yeah?” she fisted his shirt in her free hand, pulling him closer as her tentativeness fell away to joy, needing to be closer to him than before.

He let out a small quiet chuckle. “Oh yes.” He said softly, putting his arm around her and rolling her toward him. She put her hand down from her eyes and curled into him, burying her head in the darkness of his shirt and snuggling her body flush against his. “It’s Saturday tomorrow. I suggest you call in to work and make sure you have the day. We don’t know how long this will last, and you seem like you’re going to need a day regardless. I’m not leaving your side. Just in case.” He kissed her hair and wrapped around her as if he could bodily shield her from this pain.

“Don’t need to tell me twice.” She mumbled, basking in the warmth and smell of him before she quieted, letting their steady breathing and tandem heartbeats fill the relative silence.


End file.
